Waking Up is the Hardest Part
by RedRopeFrayed
Summary: Songfic, Postwar "Dreaming With a Broken Heart" by John Mayer.


The song is "Dreaming with a Broken Heart" by John Mayer

_When you're dreaming with a broken heart, the waking up is the hardest part_

Blue eyes snapped wide open. She gasped, then sighed. It had been so **real. **It always was. Happiness, warmth.

And then she would wake up. She always woke up alone. Alone in this bed meant to be shared with another…she thought of grey eyes, blue arrows, that stupid grin. She shook her head. He had left. He was gone, and he had taken her heart with him.

_You roll out of bed, and down on your knees, and for a moment you can hardly breathe._

He gasped. He always woke up like this. He just couldn't breathe. Which seemed impossible, considering who he was. Well, who he was supposed to be. An Airbender. The all-powerful Avatar. The most powerful man on earth, reduced to _this. _He stumbled off the fancy, carved bed he had been sleeping on and slipped to the floor. Still trying to catch his breath.

_Wondering was she really here? Is she standing in my room?_

Was it pathetic that the only part of his life that he truly felt was still worth was when he was asleep? When he could dream of her? And the dreams were so real. He could see her beautiful ocean-blue eyes again.

Even if they were accusing him.

He had left her, yes. But only to protect her. He was a powerful man, and powerful men had enemies. He had more enemies than most powerful men did. After the fall of Ozai seven years ago, he thought they could be happy. They were in love. Things were peaceful, and then the rebellions began.

At first they were just small uprisings-villages with only a few hundred people would revolt. He didn't understand-weren't things better now than they had been?-but he would take Appa and Katara and they would go fix things. Then the rebellions got bigger and more dangerous, and he told Katara he would take care of this one by himself. And he did. Then the next one and the one after that, and they got worse and worse each time.

So he tried to protect her. The way he had left was cowardly, but he didn't know what else to do. So he just…left.

_When you're dreaming with a broken heart, the giving up is the hardest part. _

She knew there would never be anyone else. She knew he would never come back for her. She knew both these things. Both those things broke her heart over and over again every day that went by without him.

'_And he thought he was protecting me-' _She thought wryly. He hadn't said anything when he left. Hadn't told her that this was the last time she would see her happiness. Hadn't told her that he was ripping out her heart and taking it with him. Because he still had it. He would always have it, and knowing that hurt more than any physical pain ever could.

She could still remember the day he left perfectly. He had told her that he was leaving to take care of some rebels in what remained of the Fire Nation colonies. He would be back in a few weeks, he had promised, and kissed her goodbye. That kiss was when she realized that he wasn't planning on coming back to her. It was needy, desperate, and laced with sadness and more than a little guilt.

She had been right, and he had never returned. She knew that he was still alive, of course, His health was alright, and he was currently helping Firelord Zuko plan for the future of the nations and rebuild the fire nation.

_She takes you in with her crying eyes_, _then all at once you have to say goodbye_

The dreams were always the same, he thought. Her cerulean orbs always filled with tears at the sight of him. The dreams were always silent but he could never escape the question in her eyes.

"Why?"

He had asked himself that very question every day for the past three years. He used to know the answer, but lately all he could think of was finding her and begging her to forgive him.

_Wondering, could you stay my love? Will you wake up by my side?_

She closed her eyes to get away from her reflection. She looked so _old._ She was only twenty-one, but sometimes she felt eighty. He was the only one that could make her laugh, and smile, and sometimes act like a kid. And he was gone.

She thought about the dream some more-dream, because it was always the same one. Every night, the same thing. She was waiting (for what, she didn't know,) until she saw him. Then the tears would come. She hated crying in front of him, feeling so weak. But when she saw him, she remembered all the pain from when she had realized that he wasn't coming home. It was as fierce and as bitter as the first time she had felt it…His eyes would always widen when he first looked at her. At what he read in her eyes. Was it accusation? That's what she felt like doing. Finding him and making him own up to all the pain and loneliness and hurt he had caused her. Begging him to take her back.

_Will you wake up by my side?_

The dream always ended the same way for both of them. He would step forward and take her in his arms, because he had to feel her touch one last time. She would return the embrace and he would be able to feel the rhythm of her breaths. She would smile into his shoulder before they both woke up violently.

She could always feel the warmth of his arms around her for an instant before she truly woke up.

The same way he could feel her heartbeat against his chest before he opened his eyes each morning.

_No she can't, 'cause she's gone, gone, gone, gone, gone._

He knew he was never going to get her back. Leaving was the hardest thing he would ever have to do, Avatar or no, and he refused to tear that particular wound up again by seeing her with another man. Surely, somebody would have seen how perfect she was by now and taken advantage of his absence.

Even if she did have somebody else to love by now, he was okay. That meant she was happy and safe. Especially since he wasn't there to take care of her.

_Now do I have to fall asleep with roses in my hands? And do I have to fall asleep with roses in my hand? Do I have to fall asleep with roses in my, roses in my hands?_

She'd often thought about leaving the South Pole and hunting him down, making him see reason. She couldn't though. He probably had someone else to hold him through the night when there were thunderstorms, or comfort him when he had a nightmare. She mused, sadly, that he probably did.

At least he was happy somewhere.

_Would you get them if I did?_

She went about her daily business. Empty eyed and still broken. The people around her could see this, and the ones closest to her worried she knew. It _had_ been three years. The worst three years of her life. It would always be this way, she knew, without him. _Because, _she thought wryly,_ time doesn't really heal all wounds. _

_No you won't, 'cause you're gone, gone, gone, gone, gone_

He supposed those days of carefree happiness were long gone. He wanted to see her smile again. Hear her say his name. Catch the scent of her hair on the breeze. Hold her hand.

He had made his bed, and now he had to lie in it. He stared at the paperwork in front of him dully. This was what he had to look forward to for the rest of his life? The peace he had worked so hard to achieve (and was still working on keeping) seemed so meaningless without her to share in it with him.

_When you're dreaming with a broken heart, the waking up is the hardest part. _

_ Well_, she thought as she laid down on thick furs, _at least I'll be with him tonight._

_ You know,_ he contemplated as he blew out the candle at his bedside_, I'll at least get to hold her tonight. _


End file.
